3 When Darkness Falls.8 by 3 When Darkness Falls.8 Page B
Authors: 3 When Darkness Falls.8
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said.
"I have given it consideration," Ancaladar said, sounding faintly amused. "You must open the Gatekeeper. The people will go through and seek refuge in Windalorianan, with as much of the stock as will travel fast. The creatures will follow them, so you must fly ahead and warn Windalorianan as well. But Windalorianan would have suffered attack in any event, whether you unsealed the Gatekeeper or not, so you must not feel that by doing so you have exposed them to peril they would otherwise have escaped."
It took a moment for the full impact of Ancaladar's words to sink in.
"You cannot mean for me to bespell the ice and snow of the pass," Jermayan said, unable to believe what he was hearing. Even if he could clear the Gatekeeper — something that would not be a certain thing even if he were entirely rested — the Lerkalpoldarans must reach it and get through it, which the Enemy would not wish to see happen. Most of all, he was not completely certain that Magarabeleniel would not wish to remain behind and fight.
"Of course I mean nothing," Ancaladar answered, rather tartly. "After all, I cast no spells, wield no magic. I am no great Elven Mage, who calls storms and builds palaces out of ice! It is of course for you to decide what you must do."
"I am sorry, my friend." Jermayan reached out and placed a hand upon the dragon's head. Even through the armored gauntlet he still wore, he could feel the heat that radiated from beneath the dragon's skin. Ancaladar was always warm.
"If it can be done… then surely they would come south to the plains of Vardirvoshanon if they could. And once they had done so, surely then Magarabeleniel and the others would be willing to leave for the Fortress of the Crowned Horns."
"Perhaps you will ask them tonight, at dinner."
Jermayan considered the possibility. But no. It would be too cruel to hold out the hope of life and freedom, only to deny it to them in the end. He would speak to them of leaving after he had opened the Gatekeeper.
If he could.
He shook his head. "Tomorrow morning, my friend, you and I shall see what we can do about that matter. And then we shall speak to Magarabeleniel again."
* * * * *
THAT evening Magarabeleniel's tent was filled with guests: all the Council elders who remained in Lerkalpoldara, those who were being considered to replace the absent Counselors, and those others who might have a particular interest in the news from Outside. All in all, if the entire city was not here, a good portion of it was, with the rest gathered upon the walls.
"Not a night goes by that They do not try our walls," a woman named Elodiane grumbled dourly. She was the chief of the weavers — or of those who remained in Lerkalpoldara. "We have built them thicker than ever before, and on the outside they are as smooth as Elvenware, yet it does not stop the creatures from trying to climb them. Each morning we melt away the damage they have caused, and rebuild the walls anew. They will not break them down."
But some of them can fly over your walls , Jermayan thought bleakly. And he had seen what an ice-drake could do: If it did not simply slither over the walls as if they were not there, it could smash right through them.
As if to underscore the truth of Jermayan's grim thoughts, the Coldwarg howling, which had been intermittent through the late afternoon, began again in earnest, rising and falling like cresting waves. It was as bad as he had ever heard it when the packs had followed the army, looking for any opening to exploit.
Magarabeleniel had made certain that all of the pregnant women were present that evening, and that each was given the opportunity to speak with Jermayan. He was not in the least surprised that all of them refused to obey Andoreniel's decree. Here, knowing that their city faced extinction at the hands of creatures of the Shadow, to save themselves must seem faithless and cowardly.
Though it was impossible not to hear the howling of the Coldwarg, it
"I have given it consideration," Ancaladar said, sounding faintly amused. "You must open the Gatekeeper. The people will go through and seek refuge in Windalorianan, with as much of the stock as will travel fast. The creatures will follow them, so you must fly ahead and warn Windalorianan as well. But Windalorianan would have suffered attack in any event, whether you unsealed the Gatekeeper or not, so you must not feel that by doing so you have exposed them to peril they would otherwise have escaped."
It took a moment for the full impact of Ancaladar's words to sink in.
"You cannot mean for me to bespell the ice and snow of the pass," Jermayan said, unable to believe what he was hearing. Even if he could clear the Gatekeeper — something that would not be a certain thing even if he were entirely rested — the Lerkalpoldarans must reach it and get through it, which the Enemy would not wish to see happen. Most of all, he was not completely certain that Magarabeleniel would not wish to remain behind and fight.
"Of course I mean nothing," Ancaladar answered, rather tartly. "After all, I cast no spells, wield no magic. I am no great Elven Mage, who calls storms and builds palaces out of ice! It is of course for you to decide what you must do."
"I am sorry, my friend." Jermayan reached out and placed a hand upon the dragon's head. Even through the armored gauntlet he still wore, he could feel the heat that radiated from beneath the dragon's skin. Ancaladar was always warm.
"If it can be done… then surely they would come south to the plains of Vardirvoshanon if they could. And once they had done so, surely then Magarabeleniel and the others would be willing to leave for the Fortress of the Crowned Horns."
"Perhaps you will ask them tonight, at dinner."
Jermayan considered the possibility. But no. It would be too cruel to hold out the hope of life and freedom, only to deny it to them in the end. He would speak to them of leaving after he had opened the Gatekeeper.
If he could.
He shook his head. "Tomorrow morning, my friend, you and I shall see what we can do about that matter. And then we shall speak to Magarabeleniel again."
* * * * *
THAT evening Magarabeleniel's tent was filled with guests: all the Council elders who remained in Lerkalpoldara, those who were being considered to replace the absent Counselors, and those others who might have a particular interest in the news from Outside. All in all, if the entire city was not here, a good portion of it was, with the rest gathered upon the walls.
"Not a night goes by that They do not try our walls," a woman named Elodiane grumbled dourly. She was the chief of the weavers — or of those who remained in Lerkalpoldara. "We have built them thicker than ever before, and on the outside they are as smooth as Elvenware, yet it does not stop the creatures from trying to climb them. Each morning we melt away the damage they have caused, and rebuild the walls anew. They will not break them down."
But some of them can fly over your walls , Jermayan thought bleakly. And he had seen what an ice-drake could do: If it did not simply slither over the walls as if they were not there, it could smash right through them.
As if to underscore the truth of Jermayan's grim thoughts, the Coldwarg howling, which had been intermittent through the late afternoon, began again in earnest, rising and falling like cresting waves. It was as bad as he had ever heard it when the packs had followed the army, looking for any opening to exploit.
Magarabeleniel had made certain that all of the pregnant women were present that evening, and that each was given the opportunity to speak with Jermayan. He was not in the least surprised that all of them refused to obey Andoreniel's decree. Here, knowing that their city faced extinction at the hands of creatures of the Shadow, to save themselves must seem faithless and cowardly.
Though it was impossible not to hear the howling of the Coldwarg, it
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